In THE SPIRAL: Connected Stories & Fragments from the Virtual Future

VOICE/FRAGMENT: 'Ariella' [7XP]

How pale and cold - and of course how wild - the first world seems to us now, so confined as once we were to it, and so repressed in mind and spirit. And with that very repression forging our drive to overthrow it!... And so, it is still and will always remain the first world, however battered and bruised we have made it, our Mother-world, where we were born and forged by its pressure...

But also, have there not always been other worlds in tandem with it, since people first emerged with more useful talk and over-active minds?

Well, so it is that... here... I have an old book for you with words that do not move. Although: they can be found one day and made to move... out from these pages onto screens into worlds and stories again. But know this: that it was necessary for me to make them here; to lay them down directly for others to heed and to seed and to plant so they may grow – and live on in the minds of you who receive them. I hope - if I can - to plant them well, as they may tell a valid, vivid story... the story of a first, great web-world...

We used to live believing we could achieve power and mastery and fame... and create realms where men could be more free and honest and even, a little less lonely...

And yes, I can live knowing that I was once a designer on the great team that forged the first fluctuating vision of a utopia into some kind of being, where before it lay only locked up and darkened in its original, printed form. As well you may have heard this was a super-world where the soul could go... and belong... share kinship and and make great memories. For pure expression to be enabled and for those individual spirits (who first found us and brought us into its arms) to grow and become proud...

And still I wander the worlds searching for these first pilgrims, or for the PIPs or ghosts of these first pilgrims, so that I might meet them again, and talk about this dream that once was, and cannot come again. For this land has no Arthur...and none that I can ever hope to give it now, except for the finding of its original. And this quest grows increasingly hopeless, if it was ever really – truly - embarked upon...

For a true Ariella cannot come again, not as we remember it. Not where the dark heart of man bleeds always its own despair at its own rabid being... its great fear and despair... and the Game of Being now takes its place as a more fitting refuge and hope for a mankind growing increasingly lost in its creations.

But Ariella still has something to give. If only a new - dedicated - king and queen can be found and seated its vast castle, and restore the moderation and leadership so urgently required for the realm. And there are a few who know of its code, and who know how first it may be destroyed - so it can one day be re-born...

From A Chronicle of the Protectors of Ariella in the Neuroceans

NEW ACCESS

He had finally been granted access again to the legendary super-world Ariella, renowned for its fluidity and 'stickability'. They said that once you had found it, and spent time there, you would remember it, for life. This was the case for only several other MMOs he knew already, but with the case of Ariella, it was said to be on a higher level; a level of peace, purity, and inspiration. A home of the Cyber-Knights and for Arthurian legend. It was the original web mecca, and had apparently maintained the standard.

It was the interface that intrigued him at first. It was a natural configuration yes, connected to breathing rhythms and pulse. So when he looked round at first, the light on the strange tree-structures gently moved and contracted in accordance it seemed, with his own presence. And it was all so beautiful, certainly. Faint, fragile music reached his ears. He was already on the alert for fellow users, squinting ahead to see if he could make out, within the light, airiness like an early morning, the famed figures that were also said to appear. Some were said to be the few, select Moderators of the world.

THE SPELL

Parsifal2 pulled himself out of his absorption to reach into his robe for his trusty quill. Tiny, golden dust could be seen speckling down from it. Another feature of the world, he realised. Everything emanated a fine, golden dust. Entrancing. With the quill he painted in the air a thin square before writing in thick, bold strokes the following words:

My love, I have found Ariella again at last.
Access has somehow been permitted to me after so long banished.
It truly is still the dream.
More shall follow but in the meantime:
May this news bring you joy and some peace.
In so many ways is it a shame that we must do what we now must
And... yes... one of the New Lords will be arriving soon...

The script was calligraphic; some natural-named 3D font and it glittered and hung in the air. Tiny leaves or fronds could be seen growing from the ends of the serifs.

"Camera." He uttered the word softly and a small eye appeared and hovered in the air, at the end of where he raised a hand and pointed. He then positioned himself accordingly, clutching the text upwards so it would appear above his head, black against the white light.

The in-world 'capture' would be sent in moments to to his partner – Morgana-Again - although she possessed many an in-world name. A card would reach her in the real-world also, to her persona there, although very few besides he knew who this really was...

It would not be the end for this game-world. They would see to its destruction today, yes, but also its preservation...For its code would be re-planted and renewed in the fresh reaches of some new, virtual soil... And until that time, they would be its keepers.

'All goes onward and outward... ' He began to chant the Whitman Spell into the deep code of the Neuroceans fabric.

[FRAGMENT COMPLETED! +7 XP : BACKGROUND ITEM - see more under XP + Ranking. ]